Angela
by Twilighteen-2011
Summary: Its Angela's seventh birthday. Her teacher asks about the bruises, but their nothing new. Anxiously she watches the clock. Birthdays were not a thing to be celebrated in her family.. **Rated T to be safe.
1. Her Own Personal Hell

She never smiled, never. And never before in my life had I ever felt so afraid for a little girl. Angela sat down in her usual seat, center row four desks back. She wore the same tattered dress that she'd worn yesterday, but the dress was different… or was it her? She bore a new battle wound today; a black and blue, swollen eye. I'd already pulled her aside today and asked her about it. 'Playing baseball with my daddy,' was all she'd say, but her eyes, those innocent windows into the purest or pure hearts, screamed for help. She'd eye the clock nervously, as the other children squirmed in their seats excited to get away from this prison, but not Angela. She had a whole different hell that no one in this room could comprehend. I don't believe anyone could begin to imagine what this child's been through. I looked at the clock now. _5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1._

The bell shook the room like an earthquake. The little boys and girl ran out of there faster than I thought possible. Angela just sighed and began putting her things away.

"Angela, could I have a moment with you?" I acted very nonchalant about it, but her eyes grew in fear.

She gradually hobbled up to my desk, "Ye-Yes, Ms. Meyer?" Angela squeaked the words out quickly, anxiously.

"How did you say you got that shiner again?"

"You know how I got my black eye," She looked me right in the eyes now. Her answer took me by surprise.

"Oh," I was the one stuttering now, "And how is that?"

"I was playing catch, with my daddy, and I missed the ball…" Angela trailed off not being able to look me in the eyes anymore.

"You know, Angela, you could tell me _anything_. You could trust me with any secret,"

"I know Ms. Meyer,"

I paused. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't just watch as this blameless child took the brunt of her parents anguish…

"May I be excused, Ms. Meyer?" I was interrupted mid thought.

I shook my head evenly. "Of course, Angela," I had tried everything, but it still wasn't enough.

"Oh Angela," She turned and looked at me for only a brief moment before reverting her gaze to the tiles, "Happy seventh birthday,"

She smiled and continued on to her own personal nightmare.

God bless that child.


	2. To Far For Comfort

_I hate birthdays_ I thought sullenly. Daddy's gonna be waiting for me at home. I was scared. I walked home sluggishly, I knew what was waiting for me at home and I didn't want to face it, but I didn't want to face Daddy's wrath if I was late either. With that I quickened my pace.

I heard the baseball game blaring on the television as my hand reached for the doorknob. I paused for one second and he ripped open the door.

"You're late Angela," I looked down at my feet. I could already smell the alcohol on his breath. Daddy stuck his head out the door, he looked both ways like a four year old crossing the street for the very first time, but this wasn't Daddy's first time. The alcohol was making him a little more paranoid than usual.

After being sure no one was watching he grabbed a handful of my thin, straggly hair. He ripped me into the house. I kept my composure, but I was still scared. I hit the floor hard and looked over. Sure enough, the living room was littered with beer bottles and his favorite whiskey jugs.

I looked into his eyes, looking for the littlest amount of remorse and found nothing, absolutely _nothing._ I felt my eyes begin to water _I wish I was never born, never._

He knelt down beside me, "I'm sorry baby. I don't know what I was thinking." He pulled me into a hug and stroked my long hair. _What was he doing? He didn't love me. He never even liked me. _

"Here, let's go doctor up yours bruises. Look at that eye!" His hand caressed my cheek. I didn't know what to do. I rarely ever saw compassion, and never from _him._

He scooped me up in his arms and rocked me gently back and forth. "Hush, little baby don't say a word," He put one finger to my lips, "Ma-,"

His nails dug into my legs. We never talked about Mama, it was forbidden. He sighed and kept going. He walked into his room and I felt my eyes get wide. He smiled at me. I hated that smile. What was going on? I didn't understand and I wouldn't understand what happened on my seventh birthday for years to come.

He sat me down on the bed and knelt beside me. His fingers traced bruises and scrapes and cuts. All things he'd done to me. He caused everything horrible in my life. His fingers made their way a little further up my leg… to far for comfort. I didn't have many bruises up there.

"Daddy…" I didn't like how this was going. His gruff hands made their way up my sides. He pulled my dress off over my head. I felt myself crying, I was so scared of him, completely and utterly terrified.


	3. Unsure

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting in fear. I felt so… _dirty_, so _violated_. I sat up in Daddy's bed and grabbed my dress that had somehow made its way to the other side of the room. My panties were no where to be seen. Shuddering uncontrollably, I looked at the time, it read '3:00'. _What now?_ I thought completely unsure. Unsure of what had happened last night, unsure about what would happen today, and unsure about how I could possibly ever escape this hell hole.

I peeked out the door to the left. Nothing. Then to the right, there he was. He'd passed out on his way to the bathroom last night. I stepped towards him anxiously. He reeked of urine and beer.

I cracked the window for my own benefit. I was a beautiful day, the sun was out for the first time this summer. Taking a deep breath of fresh air I made my way to the shower.

Stepping into the shower I cried silently, letting the water wash away all my worries. I took an old wash rag and began scraping the caked on blood from in between my legs. Taking the bar of soap I scrubbed ferociously. I throbbed with pain, from my head to my toes. As I turned off the water reluctantly, I began to wonder about what I would do today…


	4. Accustomed To

I sat on the steps waiting for Mr. Palmer. He was probably the closest thing to a friend I ever had. I looked at the big clock in front of the bank. I had three minutes 'till the library opened, and I'd have to run to school to make it on time. _Maybe he'll be a little early_, I thought anxiously. I chewed on my thumbnail counting the seconds awaiting his arrival.

"_Finally,_" I hissed to myself.

"Heard that, Squirt," He replied messing up my hair, and grinning from ear to ear.

"So?" He knew what I wanted. I'd come up here waiting for that book for ten days straight, but he always made me ask anyway, "Is it here?"

"Yup," He replied stretching his grin even further.

I did a little victory dance as he chuckled at me. I couldn't wait to crack open that book. I decided just then I wasn't going to recess today. He just had open the door and I ran ahead of him, sliding-not so gracefully, across the counter to see it laying there. The third Harry Potter book. My fingers stroked the binding of the book. It was beautiful. I slapped my library card to the counter and slid the book into my backpack, careful to not catch the edges of the books covering.

"Should I order you the next book? That one'll only last you 'bout…" He stoked the peach fuzz on his chin, "seven days. Give or take."

I just smiled, ecstatic to actually be holding this book. I sat on the counter clutching onto my backpack I smiled up to him, I really liked Mr. Pal-Chuck. His name was Chuck, he'd been trying to get me to call him Chuck since I met him, but it was a hard habit to break. Besides, I loved seeing how angry he got when I called him 'Mr. Palmer'.

I squealed. "I'm gonna be late!" I exclaimed jumping from the counter and skipping out of the library gleefully. "Thanks Mr. Palmer," I echoed through the library as I slammed the double doors shut tightly. I heard him groan as I ran down the sidewalk. I had four minutes to run three blocks, which would be easy, but I got stuck at every single cross way. _Every single one._

I finally made it to school fifteen minutes late wheezing from the run. I had always had really short legs. I walked to the office; they exclaimed when they saw me. I felt my face drop. _What'd I do now?_ I looked down to see a great deal of blood dripping from my right knee. I laughed out loud as they ushered me into a seat and cleaned my knee up. I don't feel the pain like most do; it's something that I've just grown accustomed to. I hadn't realized I'd hit the cement that hard, actually, now that I think about it, I think I fell twice.

They questioned me about my knee and my eye. I gave them the same answers I'd been practicing for as long as I can remember. Then the oldest lady took me aside and gave me what I like to call 'The Talk'. You know, the whole, 'If you ever need to talk, I'm here. You can trust me,' It really got old after the fifth time, or so. I couldn't trust anyone. They didn't really care anyone. If I told them the truth, if I told them I'm always afraid. Afraid to go home, afraid for my _life_, but mostly, afraid of him they'd call the police and take me away. Sure, they'd save me from the one thing I hate the most, but they'd take me away from the only things that keep me going from day to day, no matter how small those things were in comparison to all other bad things.

After about and hour (they talked to me a lot longer than I would've liked) they let me go off to class. I hated the feeling of walking in late to class. Everyone looks at you as if you're such an imbecile. I'm already the weird girl that no one likes, but as all those eyes stare up at you… If you've never experienced it there's no way you can comprehend the feeling it leaves in the pit of you stomach.

I walked through the rows of my peers, and handed my tardy slip to Ms. Meyer. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. I nodded back and began to make my way to my seat when I feel, for the third time today, but at least it wasn't my fault today. I glared up at Kyle. He was one of those rich kids who hate it for some unapparent reason and take it out on everyone else around them. I just sighed slightly and picked myself up and continued walking.

At last, the bell rung and as all the kids I pulled out my book happier to stay in and read for fifteen minutes, than to go out and get a new battle scar. Just then Ms. Meyers walked up to me wide eyed. I coward down in my chair not sure of what she wanted.. _What was her problem today? Did she just hate me for some reason?_

"What are you reading?" She snatched the book up from me, and I was sure I was in trouble…

* * *

_I really hope I made up for the last chapter being so short with this one.  
P.S. Reviews make me happy.  
_:)


	5. One Hundred, Twenty Five

"I-It's Harry Potter…" I finally stuttered out, "and the Prisoner of Azkaban."

She looked at me quizzically. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, and then shut it abruptly. _Why was she so mad at me?_ It was just a book…

"I got it at the library," It was more of a question, but at least she finally looked me in the eye.

"This isn't in your reading level, though…. We don't let children check out high school books," She stared down at the book again, turning it in her hands, yet again. "I-I can't even get my sixth grade students to read the first book… Why. . When did you start reading The Harry Potter series?"

I thought about it hard… How long ago was it? "It took me twelve days to read the first one. ."

"Twelve days!"

"Then eight to preorder the second from a library down south. I finished The Chamber of Secrets in. . three days. . I believe." Her mouth shaped a perfect 'O' and I sped up on the last part, "Eight days, and I just got this book today."

I looked out the window, as she gaped at me. I don't think Ms. Meyer's thought I was very smart. I never did my homework, for obvious reasons, and hardly ever got a grade above a C+ on my report cards because she didn't believe I tried hard enough.

Grinding my teeth, I stared up at an oddly scary looking man. He'd been asking me stupid questions for what seemed like hours… but I just clammed up. I had no idea why back then, however I was absolutely terrified of this man. His beady eyes were magnified five times a normal mans behind a pair of glasses that looked like they were never new. His plaid shirt was stained and left his belly protruding. His hair slightly gray and balding. He could have been my long lost father's twin.

He cleared his throat obnoxiously and repeated the question, "If you take half of one hundred," _Fifty,_ "Multiply this number by five," _Two hundred, fifty,_ "Then divide by two what do you get?" _One hundred, twenty five._

"Maaaaaaye, _this is_ _hopeless._" The emphasis he put on it made me tear up. He walked over to Ms. Meyer who was waiting in the back of the room, "I don't know what you were thinking, a _prodigy?_ Well, shit. We'll be lucky if were not adding another worthless little bitch to the retard class!"

I turned slightly in my chair; Ms. Meyer looked disappointed in me. I didn't like that look, for some reason it was much worse than anger to me. She headed for the door, and I whispered ever so slightly, "One hundred, twenty five."

"Excuse me, Mr. Dean. May I return to class?" I kept my glaze at the floor determined not to let him see the tears welled up in my eyes.

He let out thunderous groan, "Very well, Angela." With that I grabbed my book bag and quickly fled towards the door. I turned on my heel to close the door, but instead I stared at Mr. Dean. He wasn't a monster, so why had I been so afraid of him? He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. I actually felt bad for the way I'd acted. He looked up just realizing I was still here… and staring at him, "Shouldn't you be running off to class, Angela?"

I paused… _What on _EARTH_ do you think your doing?_ My brain screamed at me to stop, but it was too late. "Seven weeks, twenty nine pennies, yes, they will never, ever cross, eight sheep, all of them, and one hundred twenty five."

I rocketed down the hall back to my class_. I shouldn't have done that_, little did I know that that one moment would changed my whole life around.


End file.
